Victory through Mercy
by Forever Champion
Summary: When a Calormene merchant is robbed and left to die, he experiences the mercy of the Barbarian nation. A Golden Age fic.


_When a Calormene merchant is robbed and left to die, he experiences the mercy of the Barbarian nation. A Golden Age fic._

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**Disclaimer: **I make no profit from this story, and I lay no claim to C.S. Lewis's works. All mistakes are my own.

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_For you, my granddaughter Aahishis, I write this tale, of which my soul would be required were it discovered in my possession. Now that my eyes grow weak and my spirit grows feeble within me, I shall speak of the Barbarian rulers and their Lion, who pulled me from the sun-baked earth and prolonged my years that I might see your birth. Beloved Aahishis, I write this tale for you, so that you may know that there is another Sovereign who makes Tash to tremble before him, and therefore choose wisely whom to serve when you come of age. May the decisiveness of your will not be stolen from you before such a time comes to pass._

_T'was on an early morn soon before the Autumn Feast when I left the outskirts of Tashbaan, to seek for gilded ornaments and fine merchandise and therefore bring wealth to my father's household. I was but twenty at the time, the youngest of my brothers and the most errant of us all. Not in the fields would I work, or the smithery or any good trade, but my father was just and forbearing and allowed me to seek prosperity outside of our holy land._

_Upon my journey's return, with my horses laden with precious stones and incense and aromatic spices and fine cloths - Alas! From the rocks and crags there burst forth men of terrible nature, with cloaks of shadow and blades of crooked steel. They fell upon me cruelly, leaving me naught for dead, and seized my treasures, bearing those with them to regions unknown while I lay upon the path, stricken and parched while the sun burned fiercely upon me._

_In the course of time - what good fortune! For one of my brothers chanced upon me on his way to the temple. I cried out to him, though my voice was naught but the creak of a tent flap in the wind. With pitiless gaze the faithless dog searched my clothing and divested me of my father's rings, before he threw my cloak over me and continued on his journey._

_Despairing for my life, I cried out to Tash for deliverance, and - behold! Fast upon me came the foot soldiers bearing the litter of a noble Tarkhan! Surely, I thought, such a brother of Calormen would aid me, for the mighty Tash had surely sent him to answer the petition of his humble servant._

_Footsteps stilled on the dusty path, and low, disturbed murmurs reached my ears. "Let us make haste, oh my Lord Tarkhan," said one of the guards, "Lest we too fall prey to the blasphemers who hide in the rocks. Surely a curse lies upon this man."_

_**I am not cursed!** I wished to call after them. **Did I not leave my dwelling with my father's blessing, and offer sacrifice and incense to Tash ere my return? Surely affliction was due to my enemies, and not to a man such as I! Oh Tash, fierce and bold, the render of all who are faithless to thee, let your wrath smite these heedless swine, who leave your servant to die without honor!**_

_The litter carried on, and my body was slowly sapped of moisture, my tongue cleaving to the roof of my mouth. In time my soul leaped once more, for there came to my ears the merry sound of bells and tambourines and flutes. A festive escort indeed, for sacrifices were to be offered in Tashbaan on this day, and the surrounding dwellings had brought with them a priest to bless their gifts. Surely mercy had come upon me at last!_

_Yet a terrible cry smote my yearning soul. "See what befalls the one who dishonors the incomparable Tash!" exclaimed the priest. "Hark, followers of Tash; ye maidens of his temple; ye stouthearted men; look well upon the faithless one and learn from his folly. Tarry not in the repugnance of your sins, lest the wrath of our Lord Tash strike you down in your youth. Hasten, let the dead bury their own dead, whilst we bear offerings to the holy temple."_

_In heedless jubilation they danced away, singing and clashing their tambourines, and for a moment their shadows blessed me with shade. Then I was left alone, my skin like sandpaper and throat cracked with thirst. I cried out to Tash, with no moisture left in my eyes to portray my despair._

_Then a shadow overtook me. In the silence of the canyon I felt my skin grow cold, and the chill of terror quelled my soul. My swollen eyes could suddenly see and my heart failed to beat, for before me stood the most terrible of beings. Vulture-like, with pinions like rusted blades, hands that seized with purpose to rend and destroy, a stench likened to smoking coals and burning flesh, and eyes filled with wicked delight. Tash himself stood over me, not in kindness for the one who called on his name, but relishing in the fear that poured from my trembling limbs. _

_"Come with me," he crooned, and his breath was like sulfur and the screams of men. "We have all of eternity to curse the Lion together. When the flesh is melted from your bones and you live a thousand years to beg for death, we will look upon His face together and spit upon the stone table!"_

_A hoarse rasp escaped my lungs, but I had no air to scream. Coldness engulfed me and I squirmed backwards as the looming monster reached for my throat. **May the Lion save me! Do not let me enter the world hereafter with this foul creature!**_

_His name? What was his name? The title we jeered at during our victory feasts and slashed from every Barbarian throat? The Word came to me, even as clawed hands strangled it from my throat._

_Aslan! Aslan! Aslan!_

_In the moment when my own silent tongue betrayed me, a roar like thunder caused the rocks around me to tremble and sway. The hideous beast staggered, spewing curses upon the Word, digging his claws deeper around my throat._

_**"He is Mine!"** The claim thundered around the beast, drawing screeches of hate from his maw, pulsing through my soul as I was cast upon the ground. Braying, the monster lunged forward, intent on severing my bowels from my bones with one stroke of his fell claws._

_In a bound of golden fervor an even greater being shouldered between myself and the horrid manifestation. In his light the shadow of Tash's power skirted away to hide amongst the rocks. The sound of his roar caused the sky to shiver, and yet I clearly heard him say, "The earth is mine, and all that is in it! Begone, Father of Lies, for he has called upon my name, and you have lost your claim on him!"_

_I blinked, and behold! The foul beast had vanished! There was no shadow remaining of his cold death, or lingering stench of his decay. Only a Lion stood before me, as watchful and unpretentious as a ... and here words failed me, for never had I seen such affection reserved for anyone, save that of my parents for myself and my elder brothers. For many beats I could not breathe, uncertain whether he would tear me apart or perhaps leave me to a worse fate._

_"Fear not, Mebat of Calormen," he said, and his shadow over me was cooling, like a misting rain. "One day you shall seek me, and you shall not return empty handed."_

_Then he breathed over me, and I felt strength return to my limbs, and my trembling ceased. I blinked once more, and he was no longer there, but by my side welled up the trickling gush of a new spring. I drank until my stomach ached, and found the water sweet and pure, more refreshing than the finest wine._

_In stunned silence I lay under the shelter of my cloak, wondering at this new thing. Yet as the sun drifted lower in the sky and my flesh ached from my wounds, I began to wonder instead whether my visions were only a mirage, and my bones would yet be found scattered throughout the canyon. When at last I had accepted my fate - behold, once more the dull clop of many horses held me back from eternal slumber!_

_Even in my addled state, I perceived not the merry, light tread of dancers and musicians, or the sashaying stride of a Tarkheena's housemaidens, or the heavy tread of soldiers. This was the clattering tread of nimble goats and the scuffle of horse hooves wrapped in oilcloth, accompanied by the hushed voices of those reluctant to be perceived. Such travelers carried themselves away from Tashbaan. What rebellious sons of evil slunk away from the holy city in such a fashion?_

_"Pray, look," said one of their party, in an accent foreign to my ears. "Fresh water springs from the ground where none was before, but hark! The body has spoilt it!"_

_(I speak in words far grander than were spoken, for such creatures were coarse and unlearned in their speech.)_

_"Touch not the body, Darmus," spake another. "Evil has surely done its will in this place."_

_"Shall I leave this son of Tash for the buzzards? Nay, Yircus. Let us at least remove him from the road lest his death fall upon our heads. I will speak thusly to the king."_

_"Then tarry not, for Archenland lies far beyond us and the Prince of Squalor shall not rest until he captures our fair queen."_

_"Darmus?" So melodious a voice caught my ear that I believed the promises of fair and virtuous beauty in the afterlife. "Pray tell me what impedes our journey? What lies amongst the shadows like a shroud?"_

_"Tis the most unfortunate of men," answered Darmus. "See how he lays twisted and parched, though his hand trails in the water. Surely evil men came by this route."_

_"But harken now," spake a new voice, one that was noble and crowned with mirth. "Do not his eyes lift at our voices? He is not dead, Sister mine, but gravely wounded."_

_"Then let a travois be made for him," commanded the sweet one, "And let him take shelter with us until such a time as he may return to his homeland."_

_"Nay, speak not thusly, Gentle Queen!" implored Yircus. "For shall he not sell our lady to slavery and her people to the sword when he spreads tales our company to the Tisroc?"_

_(I shall not defile your ears, precious Aahishis, with such heinous words as he used to describe our previous Tisroc (whom, though he lived not forever, was buried with honor below the temple).)_

_"Hold thine tongue, Yircus," said the melodious one. "Shall we disgrace the name of our gracious Aslan by leaving the fallen to wallow in mud? Bring him quickly, oh my brother, and should he survive this night we will entrust his soul and his conscience to Aslan."_

_"It shall be as you wish, my sister and queen," answered the noble one. "Come, Runock. We shall carry him between us in the sling of my cape, and he shall feel not the cruelty of this harsh road."_

_With great attentiveness and many exclamations over my wounds, they shifted me onto a length of silken cloth worthy of a king and bore me between two of their men (who were not men at all, I realized, or even steeds, but abominable creatures which were half beast, half man). A leopard padded close by, sniffing the stream by which I had lain, no larger than an ordinary beast of the wilderness. I searched for the One with the unchallenged voice, but he was not among them._

_I shall not burden you, oh Jewel of Tashbaan, with particulars about the journey and the obscure words and phrases which drifted to my ears during my moments of awareness. Suffice it to say that when I fully awakened it was quite dark, and my tent had ceased to sway. I discovered that I had been placed in a small room, darkened save for a single lamp, and my wounds had been dressed with fragrant herbs and fine linen. _

_The room in which I lay was cool as though constructed with stone, yet overlaid with planks of sweet smelling wood (cedar, my mind supplied; a dwelling worthy of the Tisroc (may he live forever)). I sat up cautiously, noting at once the soft and supple fabric under my hands. Was I the guest of kings, to receive such treatment? What merit could I have earned in this strange land? Surely a foreigner deserved little more than a stable to spend the night._

_"Harken!" cried a merry voice, the same as I remembered from the road. "Our guest awakens. Rikateer, be so good as to inform the king whilst I inquire of this fine Tarkhan."_

_The film of heat had parted from my eyes, and at last I saw the one who had borne me away from the place of death. He was not much older than I, with a face more comely than that of a warrior bold, yet his countenance was illuminated with something which wiser men than myself still cannot explain. I know merely that the room itself seemed brighter with his approach. _

_"Noble Tarkhan," he greeted (as though I, the youngest and most foolhardy of my brothers, deserved such honorable mention), "We should not have you fear our hospitality. Pray rest and recover your strength, and thence depart in good favor from this land. I myself shall ensure that you want for nothing, as shall the generous King Lune, who has set aside this chamber in his own palace for your convalesce."_

_So unguarded was I against this extension of mercy that I merely stared at the youth. When he realized that I was wont for words he prodded, "Pray tell, good Tarkhan, by what name shall we know you?"_

_At once my mouth felt dry and my thoughts scattered before me. The young man seemed not exasperated by my traitorous tongue; he merely filled in the silence with his own words._

_"Fret not, for we shall not see you harmed in this land. For I am Edm__ú__nd, Just and Noble King of Narnia, Exceedingly Honorable Duke of the Lantern Waste, Benevolent and Wise Count of the Western March, Magnanimous Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, and I have ordered my own soldiers to guard your life this night."_

_(It is known well, blessed jewel of the desert, that the "Order of the Table" is a foolish title to bestow upon a knight, much less one of distinguished blood, yet such titles I have garnered since the mystical vanishing of the Narnian sovereigns, and am now beholden to employ in honor of my host, for he did not grant himself any title save his name, and that in itself was lacking in any rhythm or syllable worthy of a pauper's ballad.)_

_"What exemplary or memorable deeds have I done," spake I in return, "That you would acknowledge a beetle in the sand? Am I not the lowest of my brothers, and has not Tash himself laid a curse upon my head?"_

_At this the young king's countenance became troubled, but such unease was not, I think, reserved for me. "Did not the paw prints of Aslan surround you?" he questioned. "Did we not see his life-giving miracle spring up from the sand? Tash shall lay hold of you no more, lest you reject this gift and follow in the ways of your forefathers. For he whom Aslan claims is kept forever, and neither man nor beast can bear his soul down to the depths."_

_"But what must I do to claim this gift?" I beseeched him. Oh, how my brothers would jeer at my addled senses. "Surely the Lion has indeed proved mighty, yet shall he look upon me with favor when I return to my homeland, and my father's household?"_

_"Is not life offered to all who draw breath on this earth?" answered the king. "Do we not all hear him whisper to us in the wind, and speak through glorious fire in the sky, and the fleeting beauty of the desert lilies? Does not every dumb beast praise him? The toil of man is in vain, for he offers himself freely to those who will serve him, and with himself all that he possesses (for does not all in the earth and sky belong to him?), and he will turn none away. Yet how quickly he is shunned by those who seek wisdom from the spirits of men and beasts!"_

_"Assuredly, not such as I!" spake I in dismay. "Has not the Lion plucked me from death, and has not your humble servant seen mercy from the Barbarian King? I shall not disregard such providence when I return."_

_The king smiled upon me, but his expression was downcast. "So I myself proclaimed once," he said with great sorrow, "Before I betrayed kith and kin. There is but one path to life in this darkened land, and you must seek its truth before the last day comes and you are found wanting."_

_More terrible words I had not heard, for there were concealed implications that the righteous acts of my father and his father, nay, even those of the noblest of Tash's priests, could not merit such peace in the afterlife. A fleeting vision afflicted me as I recalled Tash's smoke-bound claim, and I trembled to think that if I, who had called upon Aslan, might reject him still, then what hope awaited my father and brothers, who cursed his name?_

_"Fret not," said the king merrily, as though he perceived my fears. "Aslan know his own, and he will surely draw them near to him, no matter how far they stray."_

_With such an encrypted statement he left me, burdened with doubtful musings, the same as would vex my amiable father to thrash the shame and treachery from his bloodline. Eventually I was alleviated from my thoughts, for the door opened and two guards escorted inside a man far more regal in his bearing than the one who had greeted me before._

_**Surely this is the master of Archenland,** I thought, and I struggled to rise and pay homage before the guards ran me through._

_"Peace, young Tarkhan!" said the sovereign as I fumbled, entangled in the bedding. "I bid thee not to rise. The Just King informs me that you have regained your strength, and I have come to wish thee good health and slumber for this night."_

_(He did not, of course, speak thusly, but the men of Archenland are only slightly less coarse in their speech than the Barbarians of Narnia.)_

_"Your servant is naught but dust beneath your feet," I answered, "Yet has he found favor in the eyes of the king?"_

_"Indeed, in the King's eyes, and mine as well," King Lune answered, and his eyes gleamed brightly as though he shared some subtle jest. (Unlearned as to the Narnian ways, I assumed at the time that he referred to King Edmund, and thus thought upon it no further.) "Rest here and slumber deeply, honorable Tarkhan, for my servants shall see to your care and you need not set foot from my palace until your wounds are healed."_

_"What has this unmemorable child done to sway the favor of kings?" I implored. "Shall none in this city condemn me as a servant of Tash?"_

_"Whomever we serve, we were born of the breath of Aslan," King Lune answered auspiciously. "You shall no more be cast out than my own son. Seek no longer for proof of your merit, but hearten yourself with food and wine, for your journey is long, and you shall not leave us until you are hale and of good spirit."_

_Thus he too, left me in the shadow of his kindness, such as even the priests of Tash had denied me on the road. In the hours after I thought there had been laid upon me the most generous hospitality this land had to offer, yet I was again smitten with silence when my door opened and several men like goats escorted into my room the most dazzling and bewitching creature, the likes of which I can never compare (even to my sweet Tarkheena, the joy and delight of my eyes, whom my soul longs for in the bitter affliction of my old age). Ah, yet I boast that if I had my father's fortune, and the features of our revered Tisroc (may he rest peacefully forever), I would have built a hundred ships in her name and wooed her to my beloved Calormen. For this was the Queen Susan herself, whom kings and sovereigns sought in vain, and who, shortly after, nearly destroyed our nation for the sake of her beauty._

_"My good brother tells me you are recovering," said the queen, in a voice likened to a hundred golden bells trilling merrily from the anklets of temple dancers. "You are most welcome in our company, from this day until you choose to return to your family's household. Did not Aslan himself guard you, until our hasty flight carried us to your place of destitution? Cheer yourself, Chosen of Aslan, for you shall dine at the king's table with myself and my soldiers and shall want for nothing while we remain in Archenland."_

_I regret that I only gaped, words of eloquence dying in my throat, and remained woefully mute in her presence, even until the last day before they departed for Narnia._

_(And the tales of such a time, and the curse wrought upon Rabadash the Proud while I was in the city, are they not chronicled in the books concealed in my chest of treasures, to be read by you upon the day of my departure?)_

_This I write, the last written tale of Mebat the eleventh son of Tahros, born of the exquisite desert of Calormen. __Know, Fairest __Aahishis__, that I write not out of delirium or a fool's madness, but I have seen One who compels even Tash to obey, who alone gives command over life and death. To his good country I shall surrender myself one day, and perhaps be blessed to look upon his countenance forever. __To that Great Name, the Name who cannot be conquered, I commend my soul, for I am assured that I will rest in his temple all of my days, to be driven by this world's conquests and anxieties no longer._

_My soul and spirit go with you, my cherished granddaughter._

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**This story is based on the well-versed story of the Good Samaritan, referenced in Luke 10:25-37.**


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